(An experiment with P's)
For Louise, who said, "I expect a poem"
On the first day of spring
my daughter's appendix
decides to put itself out.
Oh, prodding appendage,
aptly, ineptly applied,
apparently paroled,
appled and dappled (I suppose),
poor plicated appendix,
ponderous, up-ended compendium.
My daughter gives it up
without a protest.
Goodbye dear part,
dear prosaicly archaic appliance,
dear appropos of what aptitude,
of what appropriation
we can only propose.
For Louise, who said, "I expect a poem"
On the first day of spring
my daughter's appendix
decides to put itself out.
Oh, prodding appendage,
aptly, ineptly applied,
apparently paroled,
appled and dappled (I suppose),
poor plicated appendix,
ponderous, up-ended compendium.
My daughter gives it up
without a protest.
Goodbye dear part,
dear prosaicly archaic appliance,
dear appropos of what aptitude,
of what appropriation
we can only propose.
i enjoyed this, Bethany.
ReplyDeletebtw ... thank you for the poetry postcard.
Laure Krueger
Oh, how cool! A poetry postcard contact! Thank you for visiting.
ReplyDeleteDid she get to keep the appendix? I would display mine in a jar on the mantle, but I never get to keep excess body parts.
ReplyDeleteLove the poem. Something in line 3 strikes me as odd. Line 7 makes me giggle.
Overall, I like this "p" expermint. When does the rest of the alphabet get some love? You have until the end of the quarter.
Okay -- I'll look at line 3 again. Hmmm -- "When does the rest of the alphabet get some love?" -- I will brood on this.
ReplyDeleteAnd, no. They didn't even ASK if she wanted to keep the appendix!